


A Rusted Link

by transtobio



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Don't copy to another site, Gen, Post-Nationals, Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:20:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25926529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transtobio/pseuds/transtobio
Summary: Kageyama returns home from Nationals, gets an unexpected surprise, and contemplates what it means
Relationships: Kageyama Miwa & Kageyama Tobio
Comments: 2
Kudos: 78
Collections: Prodigy ♔ A Kageyama Tobio Fanzine - Fanworks Collection





	A Rusted Link

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Prodigy, a Kageyama Tobio Fanzine!! I had a ton of fun writing it even though it made me cry a bit :')  
> Check out the zine [here!](https://twitter.com/KageyamaZine/status/1289652441978245122?s=20)

Tobio didn’t look down when he took off his shoes, didn’t look down when he dropped his bag, didn’t look as he walked the short distance between him and the small altar his family kept in the house.

He closed his eyes and put his hands together. “Kazuyo, I’m home.”

Then, a brief second later. “We lost.”

“Hinata, that idiot-” Tobio took a deep breath, and continued, “Hinata pushed himself too hard. He got a fever, and had to sit out the rest of the match.”

Tobio thought for a moment and begrudgingly added, “Kamomedai is good. We might have lost anyway.”

He closed his eyes, placed his hands together again for a moment. It was hard not to focus on the last match, the last moments before the team - despite their best efforts - fell apart. Hinata collapsing was the first strike, and Tsukishima substituting out was the next one. They had lost the battle of stamina and didn’t realize it until the volleyball hit the court for the last time.

Tobio was too tired to be truly devastated; that would come tomorrow and the next day. Every day until the seniors graduated and formally left the club, and even some days after. He was so __sure__ this time, with __this team__ , he’d be able to go farther - but winning nationals was a fleeting dream. He tried to be content with what mattered the most: they had made it to nationals, and a little after.

He could never stop himself from wanting more. It would have to be enough for now.

Tobio finished with, “I was on the court longer than him, but it didn’t change anything.”

‘I still need to become stronger,’ he added silently in his head.

With that, he opened his eyes and took a proper look at the altar. His grandfather’s picture was pristine in its frame, free of dust and clear. He squinted, and carefully removed a stray hair from the outside frame.

Tomorrow he would properly clean the altar after his run. It was the least he could do.

Tobio turned to make his way into the kitchen, and heard a voice call out awkwardly, “Ah, Tobio? Do you want dinner?”

He felt his face burn. How long had Miwa been back? Had she… __heard__ him? “Yes.”

“Okay, I’ll heat it up. Have a seat.”

Tobio silently walked into the kitchen and saw his sister standing at the dinner table. She held a plate that was covered in plastic wrap, and he averted his eyes from the two he saw sitting near the head of the table. 

“It’s curry,” she said.

He nodded, and sat down near the foot of the table, closest to the television.

Miwa made little noise as she puttered about in the kitchen, and Tobio watched her. She had cut her hair short recently, or, as she liked to call it, ‘got a perm, Tobio, geez I’ve said that so many times.’

Whatever. The point was it was the shortest it's ever been.

Tobio wasn’t sure how he felt about it. He supposed it didn’t matter, anyway, since she still didn’t play volleyball. Training to be a stylist took up most of her time, and she was barely home more than their parents.

“So, how did your match go today?” Miwa asked, as if she hadn’t heard Tobio in the entrance room.

“We lost, two to one,” Tobio answered briefly. He considered turning the television on, if to have some sort of noise. He hated the silence.

“What was the last set’s score?”

“25 to 23.”

Miwa tsked, and turned the microwave on. “That’s unfortunate.”

“Yeah,” Tobio replied, more of a breath than a word.

There was a long moment of silence, as the two of them listened to the hum of the microwave. Tobio was too tired to make small talk, and too emotionally raw anyway. Miwa would hopefully understand. 

The microwave dinged. Miwa asked, “Do you still get recordings of the matches?”

Tobio blinked. “Uh. Usually, we watch it together after the match.”

“Can you ask your coach to make a copy? I’d like to see it.”

“Are you sure?” Tobio asked, confused. “I thought you didn’t like volleyball.” The ‘anymore’ went unsaid.

Miwa was silent for a moment, and the overhead cabinets hid her expression. “Just because I don’t play anymore doesn’t mean I don’t like it.”

“Oh.” Tobio sat back a bit in his chair, and watched Miwa step out of the kitchen towards him. “I can.”

She nodded, and put a plate of steaming curry and rice in front of him. “Let me know when you have games, and I’ll try to come and watch. No promises though.”

Tobio’s throat felt oddly thick, and he put his hands together quickly. “Thank you for the food.”

He shoved a spoonful of food into his mouth and distracted himself by chewing slowly. The more his mouth was full, the less he could talk. He didn’t want to mess things up.

Meanwhile, Miwa disappeared into the kitchen again and reappeared with two glasses of tea. She placed one in front of Tobio and sat across from him. “So, when’s your next game?”

“Not sure. That was the last official game of the season.”

“Already? Wait. No. That makes sense.” She leaned back a bit, averting her eyes from Tobio. “You’re almost done with the school year, after all.”

Tobio nodded. He took a drink of tea and then said. “We might have some practice games soon.”

He tried not to focus on the fact that this was the first time in a while they’d sat down, __together__ , for a meal. Miwa had done her best after Kazuyo passed away, but she had been just as busy then as she was now.

She could barely handle being a sister, let alone picking up the slack for two people whose faces Tobio barely recognized.

“Eh, practice games aren’t as interesting to watch. What’s the point if I can’t see you and your friends in proper uniforms?”

“Teammates, not friends.”

“Same difference. You’re the official setter right?”

“Yes.” Tobio placed his spoon down. “The other setter - Sugawara- _ _san__ \- is graduating.”

“It must have been rough for him, not being the official setter in his final year. He didn’t bully you, did he?”

Tobio frowned. “Sugawara- _ _san__ taught me a lot.”

Miwa laughed. “Good, good. You get to be the __senpai__ to the new underclassmen next year. Be sure to teach them a lot too.”

Something in Tobio settled with those words, and he felt himself smile a little. His memories of being a __senpai__ in middle school were tainted and tinged with misplaced anger. It was during his second year that he started to become truly alienated from his teammates. The first people he’d push away had been some underclassmen that quickly learned not to go for him for help or advice unless they wanted to be snapped at and told to practice further.

Tobio would do his best not to repeat this mistake. He had a year of being the underclassman to the best senpai ever and would strive to emulate them. If not, well, he had Sugawara’s cell phone number. And hopefully… maybe, Miwa would be around enough for him to ask her as well.

The two of them quieted, and Miwa took her time with her tea while Tobio inhaled the curry she had made. He tried to get up to wash his plate, but she laughed again and ruffled his hair, making a disgusted expression afterward. “Gross, you’re sweaty. Go take a bath.”

She not so subtly attempted to wipe her hand on the side of her shirt, frowning. Tobio made a complicated face, trying not to laugh or even smile. If Miwa noticed, she said nothing. 

“Thank you, __Nee-san__ ,” Tobio said as she picked up his plate and glass.

Then, before he could overthink it, the words rushed out of him. “You know- if you ever need someone to p-practice on, I don’t mind.”

“Hair __and__ makeup?” She asked, hiding a smile.

Tobio blinked. “Yeah, whichever,” he replied as if it were obvious. “I can’t wear makeup to practice, though. It’ll sweat off.”

“That’s sweet of you to offer,” she teased, reaching out to muss his hair again before thinking better of it. “Hmm. Your bangs could use a trim sometime.”

Tobio stood there awkwardly, and she nudged him. “Go take a bath. I’ll still be here.”

She would be. He didn’t doubt her.

**Author's Note:**

> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/transtobio)


End file.
